The Bell Jar

by Sylvia Plath

(I felt very still and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo.)

There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room.

The silence depressed me. It wasn’t the silence of silence. It was my own silence.

The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all, for the good it did me.

There is nothing like puking with somebody to make you into old friends.

People were made of nothing so much as dust,

If you expect nothing from somebody you are never disappointed.